


Around the world, with you

by Moira_chan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff, Michele gets teased a lot sorry Mickey, Post-Canon, Travelling together, written for Yuri!!! on Ice Valentine's Exchange on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 09:50:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10357668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moira_chan/pseuds/Moira_chan
Summary: Mila isn't really into sightseeing, but she doesn't mind at all when it's with Sara she's travelling.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lacunicamare](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lacunicamare).



> This is a fic I wrote as a back up gift for [lacunicamare](http://lacunicamare.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, as part of the [Yuri on Ice Valentine's Exchange](https://yuri-on-ice-valentine-exchange.tumblr.com/). It was meant to be slowburn, but actually well... it's as slowburn as a 5k words long one-shot can get, I guess??
> 
> Anyway, hope you like it! You can read it [here](http://moirakoro.tumblr.com/post/158561639957/hi-lacunicamare-here-is-your-back-up-gift-for) on Tumblr too.

On the evening of the last day of the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona, once the Victory Ceremony and the compulsory interviews and the fan meetings and the congratulations are over and done, Mila walks back to the hotel with a smile on her face and alone. Although she didn’t manage to snag gold this time, her silver medal weighs nicely on her chest, under her coat where she kept it hidden from indiscrete and/or ill-intentioned gazes. Now all that’s left is to go back to her room on the fifth floor, change into something more comfortable than her Russian team official sportswear, and perhaps read a book or play some 3DS _or_ leave sarcastic comments on Yuri’s Instagram posts until she feels like sleeping.  
She’s already grinning at the idea when she enters the hotel lobby, but she barely has time to pass the revolving door before her eyes spot someone she thought had returned to their room long ago. Sara Crispino is standing in the lobby with her twin brother, already changed out of her gym clothes; and judging by the Italian Mila can hear, they’re… arguing.

Now, Mila doesn’t know a lot of Italian besides _no_ and _si_ and the mandatory _ti amo_ , but she’s pretty sure she’s hearing a lot of the first one. Besides, it’s unusual for Sara to sound this annoyed. So Mila steps closer in a mixture of concern and, well, curiosity – and that’s when her fellow competitor notices her. Instantly, Sara’s eyes light up and she waves at Mila; the next second she’s asserting a last few words in Italian, then she turns to her and gives her her brightest, most suspiciously innocent smile.

“Right, Mila?” she asks. “We were planning to go to the funfair together, remember?”

Oh. So _that_ ’s why she seemed so relieved to see her.  
Well, Mila doesn’t have a single memory of anything related to a funfair, but what kind of friend doesn’t play along with their friends’ little white lies?

"Yeah,” she answers naturally; not to show off, but she’s a talented liar. “Sorry I’m late, by the way. Let me just go back to my room and change, and we can leave in like, five minutes at most!”

Michele seems to believe her and the way her lips curve into a perfectly faked smile, despite the doubt still obvious in his eyes, because he says nothing. Which is good, since it gives Sara an opportunity to grab Mila’s arm and drag her in the general direction of the elevator.

“See, Mickey, I’ll be alright!” she promises in a cheerful voice, before turning her gaze to Mila. “I’ll go with you. Let’s get ready quickly, I can’t wait to leave!”

Two seconds later, the elevator doors close behind them and both women are left alone, away from Michele’s dubious, concerned glare. The change in Sara’s attitude is instant, as her shoulders relax and she puts her hands in the pockets of her coat, sighing.

“Wow, that’s not very nice, tricking your brother like that,” Mila comments. “May I ask what he did to deserve it?”

Never one to do anything but laugh at her friend’s gentle teasing, Sara lets out an amused chuckle. “He followed me to the GPF, although I explicitly told him not to. It’s nothing serious, but he’ll never learn if I don’t get a little angry at him. So there’s no way I was going to let him come to the fair with me.”

Mila raises a skeptical brow. Michele’s always shouting he’ll protect his sister against everything and everyone, but the truth is she’s actually the one mothering him all the time, isn’t she? “Keep up the good work, you’re raising him well,” Mila snickers.

The elevator comes to a halt once it reaches the fifth floor, and the doors slide open. The both of them step into the corridor, Sara escorting Mila all the way to her room; and it’s only when the Russian skater swipes her key card on the reader that her friend and competitor speaks up again.

“Thanks for being my alibi, by the way,” she says with a sincere smile, unlike anything she was giving her brother earlier. “I’ll just wait a few minutes before I go back downstairs, then I should be able to leave without a problem.”

“Uh? You mean I’m no longer invited?”

Mila revels in the way Sara’s beautiful, purple eyes grow wider in surprise. Well, to be quite honest, she hadn’t been planning to go to any amusement park or anything of the sort tonight, but she and her friend only have so few opportunities to spend time together in a season; besides, Mila finds she really wouldn’t say no to some food right now. Especially if there’s cotton candy. Or churros.

“You’d like to come anyway?” Sara asks, still unbelieving.

“Yeah, sounds like fun. Also, you won’t have to sit next to creepy old men on rides if I’m here.”

Once again, Mila was just teasing her, but Sara laughs a true, sincere, happy laughter. “Alright then, but don’t make me wait too long!” she says as she playfully motions for her friend to hurry up and go change in her own room. Mila doesn’t need to be asked twice.

***

It’s way past ten in the evening when they arrive at the fair. For a second Mila suspects the rides might be closed before they get on the first one, even, but she forgets about it the moment they step into the area and notice how many people are still there having fun, from groups of teenagers talking loudly to couples sharing a box of candy or a serving of French fries. It’s a good thing they only came this late, after all; she can’t begin to imagine how crowded the place must have been in the afternoon.  
Besides, all the lights – from the rides and the food stands and all the games – shine so brightly in the night sky, it’s truly a sight to behold. Sara seems to agree, given her soft smile and the amazement that lights up her eyes when Mila turns her head to look at her. The sight makes Mila realize once again just why Michele is so adamant that his sister must be protected from all guys, and simultaneously want to make Sara have even more fun.

So she puts her hand on Sara’s shoulder and suggests they try out the pendulum ride first – to which Sara agrees heartily.

A whole hour and a half later, they’ve shouted their hearts out on two more rides, found out Sara is basically a goddess at bumper cars, ventured into the haunted house (where Mila kept gripping Sara’s arm every time something jumped in front of them and Sara laughed because, apparently, her brother always does the same), and somehow even found the time to grab something to eat. It’s almost midnight, now, or maybe even past midnight, and people are slowly starting to go home, but some rides are still open – including the Ferris wheel, which Sara had wanted to ride ever since she saw it in the distance, she tells Mila.

“It’s what made me want to come here in the first place. It was so colorful and bright from afar… and it’s even prettier from here.”

“Let’s hurry up and go before it closes, then!”

Thankfully, they don’t even have to run to make it to the last ride of the night. There are barely five, six people in front of them when they get in the queue, and a few minutes later, they climb into one of the small capsules, which rises as soon as the wheel mechanism is activated again.  
It takes the capsule a good two minutes to get to the top, but once it does, the happiness in Sara’s eyes is priceless; she sits on the edge of her seat with both hands on the window and looks at the illuminated city below like it’s the most beautiful thing on earth. Which, well, it might be, Mila must admit.

“Don’t you think it’s amazing, being able to see the city from above?” Sara asks. “I wish I’d had time to go sightseeing…”

“Like we ever have time to do that,” Mila sighs. “Ever since I got here, it’s been nothing but practicing, practicing, practicing, and _sleeping_ whenever I had the time.”

“And my plane is taking off right after the banquet tomorrow…”

This time, it’s Sara’s turn to sigh. Their capsule is starting to come down; it will make another full turn, but then they will have to get off the ride, probably, which means their little evening of fun is almost over. They have no right to be disappointed, since they’ve already stayed up way too long for people skating in the gala at two tomorrow, but Mila’s heart still clenches.  
Oh, well. At least tonight was amazing. She’s glad she didn’t stay in her room, in the end, because even annoying Yuri all night can’t compare to an evening at the fair. (And she got both cotton candy _and_ churros, so really, who is she to complain?)

The capsule finishes its second turn, and slowly comes to a halt. Mila gets off the ride first, still a bit dazzled by the city lights, but Sara follows her closely. It’s late and they’re tired, so they agree it’s time they go back to the hotel, and they leave the area.  
A five-minute taxi ride later, they’re back in the hotel elevator. When it stops on the fourth floor, Sara gets out. “Let’s do that again sometime,” she says.

And the last thing Mila sees before the doors slide close again is her fellow competitor and friend waving at her.

***

After Barcelona, they go about a month and a half before standing on the same ice again. They’re in Ostrava, this time, for the European Championships; it’s one of those competitions that happen over the span of five days and not four, which means they’re not skating every day. As athletes in the Ladies’ division, they’re actually only performing on Wednesday afternoon and Friday evening, which leaves them… well, not free, because they still need to train and exercise, but with a lot more free time than during the GPF on Thursday and Saturday.

“We could take a walk around the city tomorrow,” Mila suggests when they meet in the locker room after their (very successful, to say the least: Sara is in first place with Mila coming second) short program. She’s not sure her friend will say yes, since, well, last time Mila had kind of invited herself, and maybe Sara’s not _that_ into city tours-  
But she does, in fact, say yes, and Mila can’t help but let her satisfaction show on her face.

Coincidentally, men solo competitors aren’t skating until Friday, so on Thursday afternoon it turns out Mila isn’t meeting up with one but _two_ Crispino siblings, including a very tense-looking Michele – although he seems to relax a bit when she calls their names and he notices her. Or rather, he notices it’s _just her_ Sara was planning to go out with.

“So, do you have any idea of where you’d like to go?” Mila asks, as naturally as she can manage. The truth is, somehow, she spent almost an hour browsing TripAdvisor last night; she realized she didn’t know what kind of places Sara liked to visit, though, so she ended up… making a list of some kind. Nothing much, just the addresses of a few landmarks, museums, parks and shopping malls in the city.

“I’ll let you choose, Sara,” Michele answers – but Sara doesn’t look like she has any idea either, so Mila takes it upon herself to suggest something.

“Well, if you’re into art, there’s this museum-”

She doesn’t have time to finish her sentence, though. Suddenly, there’s a shout-

“Mickey! Sara!”

And some human tornado going by the name of Emil Nekola throws his arms around a very annoyed Michele’s shoulders, having appeared out of nowhere but seemingly decided to invite himself into their little group.

“Hi, Mila!” he says when he finally notices her, too. “Were you all planning to go sightseeing? I can show you around, if you’d like!”

Oh, that’s right – Emil is from Czech Republic. Even though he may not live in Ostrava or anywhere near, it’s highly possible he’s been here before, if only for nationals or smaller competitions; so he must know at least a few things about the city… That means Mila’s been working for nothing, which is a little frustrating but, oh, well. Sara agrees enthusiastically and her brother would follow her to the end of the world in a heartbeat, so there’s no way Mila can say no.

A short bus ride later, they end up in the middle of a crowded street, which looks like a nice place to do some shopping – except that Emil suggests they should grab something to eat first, since he knows a restaurant nearby who serves the best meat, and… isn’t he totally clinging to Michele? When his arm isn’t thrown across the Italian’s back, he’s always at least got a hand on his shoulder; and he keeps talking to him to the point where it annoys Michele because he can’t even keep an eye on Sara (which, to be honest, is for the best : Sara is a grown woman, for heaven’s sake). Still, Mila almost feels like she’s intruding on something, and she can barely stifle her laugh.  
Suddenly, Sara’s fingers are on her forearm and she startles. She looks away from the men of their group to shoot her friend a questioning glance.

“Looks like we’re no longer needed,” she remarks, amusement shining in her purple eyes. Mila mimics her knowing smile; Sara feels the same as she does, apparently, and nothing could make her happier right now.  “So, about that museum you mentioned earlier…”

“It’s not too far from here. And I don’t think they’ll even notice if we leave right now.”

They exchange one last look of complicity, one last conspiratorial smile, and just like that it’s settled – Sara grabs Mila’s hand, and a second later, they’re gone.

There are two museums in the area, actually; they opt for the least popular but best rated one. Sara waits until they’re almost there to grab her phone and send her brother a quick text, one that’s saying just enough for him not to be (too) worried but not so that he’ll come running to the museum the second he reads it.  
They had no idea what to expect, since the _House of Art_ doesn’t have a permanent collection on display, but the exhibition they get to see turns out to be far from boring. It’s modern art from the 1980s; there’s not a piece or artist Mila knows or has even heard of, but it’s all very colorful and Sara seems to like it, so that’s okay. Trying to find which abstract painting looks the most like any of their fellow skaters is the best, most fun part of the whole experience – especially since it makes Sara laugh every single time, and her laugh must be one of the most beautiful sounds Mila has ever heard.

They leave the museum about an hour later, none of them having suggested they catch up with Emil and Michele, and Mila secretly hoping they’ll have some more time to themselves. It’s really fun, being just the two of them.  
They barely have time to step out of the museum before the Russian skater feels a drop of rain wetting her hair, though. An annoyed look almost makes it to her face – except Sara is quick to take an umbrella out of her bag and open it for the both of them to take shelter under, and that makes Mila’s irritation vanish instantly.

“… How can you be so well-prepared?” Mila lets out, honestly impressed.

“I’m just used to checking the weather when we’re abroad.”

Mila almost asks who she means by _we_ , but it’s obvious – she and her brother.

“You really never stop mothering him, huh,” she comments in a snide tone. “Do you pack his luggage, too?”

“To be fair, he does carry my bags.”

Their eyes meet, making them both laugh – and when Mila offers to hold the umbrella, _‘cause I’m sure you miss your personal knight in shining armor_ , Sara gladly takes up the offer.

***

Between Europeans and Worlds is usually a rather uneventful period: no major competitions but a lot of practice, practice and practice again, and definitely no time at all to keep in touch with friends other than by liking their Instagram pictures. So it comes as a surprise, really, when Mila flies to Switzerland for an exhibition in Lausanne and discovers Sara’s been invited to perform here as well. A very, very pleasant surprise.  
Especially since it turns out Michele isn’t among the participating skaters, and his and Sara’s coach fervently refused he skipped practice to escort his sister to the neighboring country. Okay, that sounds kind of mean – but really, it means this is the first time Mila can spend some time with Sara without having to worry about upsetting her over-protective brother. Besides, although she knows how much her friend loves her twin… Sara needs her own space, and she looks so much more beaut- happier. She looks happier when she’s allowed to be the grown, independent woman she is. Right.

“Have you ever been in Geneva?”

Mila blinks and looks up from her dessert. It’s the night after the last day of the exhibition and they’re both tired from performing two days in a row, but they agreed to have dinner together nonetheless. Though expensive (it _is_ Switzerland, after all), their meal has been amazing so far, but at some point Mila started reflecting on today’s events and Sara’s programs, and she got kind of side-tracked.

“Uh…” she says, uninspired. Sara was telling her something about having a day off soon, wasn’t she? In the end, the Italian skater decides to have mercy on her, thankfully.

“I’m talking about tomorrow,” she laughs. “I mean, since neither of us is leaving until Monday… maybe we could go to Geneva tomorrow? We could take the boat.”

Right, tomorrow is a Sunday, which means they can go sightseeing and relax however they want. And Sara is suggesting they do just that – _together_.  
That sounds like a wonderful idea, in Mila’s opinion.

So on the following day they wake up at the same time, each in their own room, and they leave the hotel right before nine. The walk to the harbor is short and nice, then they’re on the deck of the boat and the cool February wind is playing with the long, black hair Sara didn’t see fit to tie up. Luckily, it’s a sunny day; with the water bright and beautiful, it’s a landscape you can’t get tired of watching. For the entire trip they talk or take pictures, the best of which Mila uploads to Instagram, and it isn’t that long until they can see Geneva in the distance.  
They agree on taking a walk along the harborside when they disembark; this way it only takes them about twenty minutes to get to the main tourist attraction of the city, which isn’t really a landmark but rather… some kind of enormous fountain.

“Well, here we are,” Mila says. “The… _Jet d’Eau_ …?” she tries, uncertain of how you’re supposed to pronounce it.

Her accent makes Sara smile. “I think the _t_ is silent.” She’s probably right.

Since the _Jet d’Eau_ isn’t a building, it can’t really be visited, but there’s a stone jetty thanks to which it can be reached. It looks narrow and slippery, though, so Mila waits until she’s seen a handful of other tourists come back safely before venturing on it on her own, Sara following close behind. It’s no long walk – they’re under the fountain in three minutes, and they don’t stay for more than two but that’s enough for some droplets of water to reach their hair and faces.

“Be careful,” Sara warns as they’re about to climb down the stairs that separate the jetty and the harborside. She extends her hand and Mila grabs it without thinking, quietly accepting the other woman’s help.

“Thank you,” she says. She almost asks Sara what kind of moisturizer she’s using, because her skin does not only look flawless but it’s incredibly smooth too; their fingers brush gently as they let go of each other, though, and Mila forgets about it.

Around noon, they start looking for a restaurant to grab something to eat, then opt to simply go window-shopping in the streets near the harborside so that they don’t get lost. They don’t buy anything until they manage to find a boutique that’s definitely intended for tourists, with Swiss flags everywhere on the main window and a stand displaying kitschy postcards on the front. It’s surprising it took them so long to find one, Mila remarks; Sara suggests they go have a look inside to celebrate the discovery, and that’s how they end up looking at, well, the always incredible yet never really surprising amount of heterogeneous objects you’re bound to find in these kinds of shops.

“Why don’t you get a gift for your brother while we’re here?” Mila asks in a teasing tone.

Sara seems to be thinking for a second. “Hm… I don’t know if there’s anything he’d like,” she finally says, all the while giving a mug with a big edelweiss on the handle a suspicious look.

Mila is smirking by now. “It’s better if he doesn’t like it! He’ll be overjoyed no matter what you give him, right? Besides, if it’s from you…”

She only has to wait two seconds until Sara understands and a glimmer of mischief lights up her purple eyes. “He will definitely use it, even if it’s the ugliest thing on earth,” she completes, grinning, and Mila’s smile instantly matches hers. She loves it when they’re on the same page like that. And since they’re almost always on the same page – she just really, really loves it when she’s with Sara.

(In the end, they agree on a plush cow keychain that practically screams _I’m a kitschy souvenir_ , complete with the Swiss flag on the back and a bell on the front. Michele puts it on his skating bag – and Sara still has trouble not bursting into laughter when they talk about it on the phone a whole month later.)

***

Worlds can’t come fast enough, after that. Mila can’t fall asleep the night before she’s meant to take a plane to Helsinki. It’s been a long time since excitement has kept her awake like that, but she can’t help it – she just can’t wait to _finally_ try and snag that gold medal, and she just can’t wait to see Sara again.  
When it became like that, she has no idea; but the truth is, she misses Sara. She misses her smile and her laugh and her hand on Mila’s arm, just like she misses travelling, taking pictures, sightseeing with her. And Mila’s never even been that much into discovering new places in the first place. Besides, it’s barely been a month and a half since Geneva, and they’ve phoned or skyped more than once since then too-

But Wednesday comes eventually – and for half a second when their eyes meet, right before she smiles her usual sweet, sweet smile, Sara looks just as relieved to see Mila as Mila feels to see her. They both stay calm though, neither showing anything more than what could pass as adrenaline-induced pre-competition excitement. They exchange a few words, perhaps, promising to cheer on the other during her short program later on, and that’s it; as cheerful as Sara’s smile can be sometimes, as snide as Mila’s comments can get on some days, right now they can’t afford to think of anything but their performances.  
And that’s okay.  
Because Mila comes out in second place, Sara in fourth, and on Wednesday evening they end up in Sara’s hotel room, sprawled over her bed, all eyes focused on the maps and addresses Mila printed out and the travel guide Sara brought.

“There’s just so many things to see around here,” Mila says, almost whining.

“And so little time on our hands…” Sara completes as she lays her head against the headboard and takes a pillow on her lap. “There’s a ferry going from Helsinki to Tallinn. We could be there in three hours…”

Mila looks up from her map of the Helsinki city centre.

“The Old Town of Tallinn is on the UNESCO World Heritage list,” Sara answers the other skater’s silent question.

“Oh. I thought people only went there for the cheap alcohol.”

Now it’s Sara’s turn to turn quiet all of a sudden. Mila blinks; three entire seconds pass until she finally understands.

“Oh my god,” she says, barely containing her laughter. “That comment just sounded very Russian, didn’t it?”

Sara bursts into a pure, sweet, adorable laugh. Mila’s thought about this before but- her laugh definitely is the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard, isn’t it?

“If you mean, according to the worst clichés in the universe… then yes, it did.”

Not just her laugh, by the way. Her face, too, her eyes, her hair, her tan hands on the white pillow, her long legs on the bed sheets, her _mouth_ – there’s nothing about Sara Mila doesn’t find absolutely stunning.  
And right there, right then, there’s something special. There’s something special about the way they’re talking, the way they’re planning trips they could go on and thinking of time they could spend together – something that makes Mila want to never, ever leave the intimacy of this room, the warmth of this bed.

She’s no idiot – she knows it’s love.  
It’s just a bit frightening to realize how much stronger it is than anything she’s ever felt for any of the multiple hockey players she’s dated.

***

So Mila is in love.  
It’s no big deal, really. Don’t listen to whatever Yuri might tell you; she’s loved people before. Still, it’s rarely ever been this… painful. The longing, now that Worlds are over and she is back in Russia and Sara is back in Italy. She can stand it, obviously (unlike a certain skater she knows –but whose name she won’t mention, that’s how nice she is– who won’t stop looking like a kicked puppy the second his boyfriend leaves), but it still hurts. Not too much, it’s just… a kind of pain that won’t go away, no matter for how long she talks to Sara on the phone, and just gets worse every time they hang up.

So when Sara suggests over Skype that she could come and spend a whole weekend in Russia with her, Mila has trouble refraining from smiling; and she definitely can’t deny the warmth spreading in her chest.

The morning Sara is meant to arrive, she takes extra care making sure she looks even better than she usually does, with her makeup and hair and clothes on point, and she gets at the airport half an hour early just in case. Sara’s plane lands on time; Mila welcomes her with a smile and a cup of her favorite coffee, which Sara looks very thankful for. The flight’s been okay, but still long and tiring, she explains – “I can’t wait to go sightseeing with you, though.”  
She said it without a second thought, probably, but Mila’s heart still flutters all the same. Maybe she’s imagining things, too, but she can’t help feeling like Sara is… comfortable with her, at least? It’s in the way she walks so close to Mila that sometimes their elbows touch, the way she tilts her head once they’re sitting in the bus leaving the airport and doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest by how she brushes Mila’s shoulder in the process; and later the way she doesn’t hesitate a second before taking her arm to drag her to the landmarks she’s so eager to visit, too-

Mila nervously brushes a strand of red hair away from her face. She _knows_ she shouldn’t get her hopes up – Sara is just being friendly, that’s all. Probably.

“By the way, don’t you think it’s funny?” she asks out of the blue, arms crossed, if only because she doesn’t have enough time with Sara here to miss on opportunities to make the best of their time together. “We’re both professional skaters, yet we’ve never been skating just for fun together…”

Sara seems deep in thought for a second. “You’re right… With how many times we’ve seen each other, you’d think we would have gone at least once, but all we ever do is go sightseeing.”

“Uh, I wasn’t complaining. I like sightseeing,” Mila says. _With you_ , she almost adds; because she’s pretty sure it wouldn’t be nearly as fun if she was with, say, Viktor or Georgi instead.

“I do, too,” Sara answers calmly. “But it’d be nice to do something different for once… How about we go right now?”

“To the rink?”

Mila can’t believe what she’s hearing. The only reason why she mentioned going ice skating together is because the idea briefly crossed her mind, but she never thought… she never even wanted… Uh, well. Maybe she’s wanted to do something else than just visit places with Sara for a while, but anything (having dinner, going to the cinema, whatever) would have been fine. Besides, it’s not like any of them has brought her skates with her today-  
But Sara just smiles, unfazed, and Mila finds herself unable to say no.

That’s how they end up in Mila’s home rink during public hours, something Mila has never done by herself, both of them wearing (crappy, if Mila has anything to say about them) rental skates and trying to navigate in the middle of the crowd.

“What are you supposed to do at a rink when you can’t even practice your jumps?” Mila groans after barely crashing with an inexperienced fourth-grader for the third time in a row. Sara, who skated to the side to avoid the child, scoots back closer, giggling.

“Mickey and I used to play tag all the time when we were kids,” she explains, smiling fondly at the memory. “Or we’d just...” Her fingers brush against Mila’s and Mila lets her grab her hand, too surprised to react. “… hold hands and skate around the rink. This way, everyone thought Mickey was my boyfriend, and I wouldn’t get teased.” Her grip on Mila’s hand gets stronger as she speeds up, turns around and starts going backwards, now facing Mila; she extends her second hand and Mila takes it as well.

“Can you believe Mickey wanted us to compete as a pair when we first started skating?”

She punctuates her question with a light, delicious chuckle, but Mila is too busy snickering to be amazed. “ _Nooo_ , I absolutely _cannot believe_ that!” she blatantly lies. “Seriously, I’ve always wondered how he hadn’t managed to get you to pair skate with him somehow. You told him no, didn’t you?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Sara laughs. “He dropped me once. Then he would no longer lift me because he was too scared he’d hurt me again.”

Mila’s smile falters a little. “That’s… kinda sad, actually.”

“But we’re better off this way.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a few seconds of silence, after that, during which they’re just content skating together, with their hands warm in each other’s; until Mila suddenly looks up and groans. “Seriously, though? You can’t weigh more than Yuri, and I can lift him super easily!”

Sara’s eyes light up with interest. “You can?”

“Uh… yeah?”

The Italian skater doesn’t wait for a more elaborated answer. A smirk making its way to her pretty lips, she lets go of Mila’s hands to place both of hers on Mila’s shoulders – and they’re really close suddenly, but… all right. If that’s what Sara wants, Mila will give it to her. Swiftly, she places both hands on her waist; the next second she’s lifting her, spinning her around, and when Sara’s skates meet the ice again her eyes are the most intense purple Mila has ever seen.  
She remains silent for a while, lost in those eyes. She vaguely hears Sara speak, but doesn’t pay attention to what she’s saying – because she’s beautiful, and her smile is a happy one, and her hands have found Mila’s fingers again, and right know it’s all that matters.

Until Sara’s eyes widen a little. “Mila?”

“Mm? What did you, err…”

Mila blinks, and Sara’s gaze softens. “I was saying pair that pair skating looks rather fun, after all… with you.” She waits a second before she continues. “Actually… Don’t get me wrong, I love Mickey, and I love spending time with him. But everything we’ve done together up till now has been so much more fun.”

“Sara, I…” Mila bites her bottom lip. She feels the same way; and she feels so much more, too, so much that it’s almost overwhelming right now. Her fingers, wrapped around Sara’s hands, are the only things she can focus on besides her racing heart, and all she wants to do is pull Sara closer and, uh, kiss her or something. “… I love being with you, too,” is all she manages to blurt out.

Then she thinks – scratch that. If she’s meant to have her heart broken, then the sooner the better; besides, with the way Sara is looking at her right now, maybe… just maybe…

“Actually, I… may love y-”

Two lips pressing against hers prevent her from finishing her sentence.  
They’re gone as quickly as they came – but when Mila lowers her gaze, confused, she is greeted Sara’s sweetest, most stunning smile.

“Let’s take a trip together this summer,” she says. “And the next, too. There are so many places I want to see with you.”

Mila thinks about it for a second – she may not be into sightseeing that much, but Rome, or Paris, New York, Tokyo, _with Sara_ …

“Alright,” she smiles. All of that sounds like the best idea ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading up till there! I'm moirakoro on both Tumblr and Twitter, in case you'd like to idk talk to me or something


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